Intoxication
by static shakedown
Summary: NejixHina. A secret love affair seems exciting in the beginning . . . but all good things must come to an end.
1. I Neji

**Intoxication**

**Disclaimer**—I don't own Naruto.

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"Vinegar and cyanide," Shikamaru spat out the words as if they were venomous. "That's exactly what she smells like." He took another swig of alcohol before slamming down his mug on the bar counter. The beer took on the shape of a vortex as it violently sloshed around and foam flirted along the edges of the rim in the hopes of escape. A few droplets managed to break free, catapulting over the top of the sloshing chaos, showering the table in a drizzle of hazel brew.

Neji was seated to Shikamaru's right. He grabbed some of the napkins that were tucked under the glass bowl of complimentary mixed nuts and wiped at the spilled drink after seeing that no one else was going to take the initiative. He took an exaggerated breath in that allowed him to loudly sigh when the air was pushed out, hoping his drunken comrade caught on to his exasperation even in his aberrant state of intoxication. "I never took Shikamaru for a sloppy drunk," he grumbled as he wiped at the counter. He then got up in search of a trashcan to place the now soggy napkins.

"Me neither, but this is hilarious!" replied Kiba, who was seated to Shikamaru's left. Kiba's laughter continued as drunken friend started to sway, no longer able to maintain his own equilibrium in his seat. He was held back from falling off the barstool only by Kiba's steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Vinegar and cyanide, you said?" Kiba egged him on with a devious smirk. He was clearly getting enjoyment out of seeing his friend so uncensored.

"Aye," Shikamaru replied, suddenly straightening up in his seat. He stared wide-eyed at his mug partially filled with beer—as if it were the first time he'd ever seen such a thing—before grabbing on to it with both hands greedily. "And she foams at the mouth like this beer," he slurred while purposefully dumping the mug's remaining contents on the counter at the same time that Neji returned from his search for a trashcan.

"I—_just_—cleaned that," Neji muttered darkly. However, his eerily low voice was mostly droned out by the loud din of Kiba's howling guffaw. He waited with barely contained anger until the beer on his side of the counter finished dripping onto the floor before sitting down again.

Neji abandoned his role of interim maid and decided to let Shikamaru make a mess if he was so inclined. He just hoped their disorderly conduct didn't get them kicked out . . . not that he really minded at this point. Wearily eying the still wet counter, he folded his hands in his lap and inspected the circus troupe next to him. Kiba was signaling for the bartender to approach, hopefully so he could get something to wipe the counter with, and Shino, who was sitting to Kiba's left and had yet to join the conversation, was tracing the movements of the recently expelled beer as it inched closer to his side of the table.

They were all in Konoha's local pub on a Friday night for their weekly "Testosterone Fest," as Kiba had dubbed it. When he was first invited, Neji had it described to him as a gathering where men could be men, allowed to let out their virile emotions to one another and act rambunctious, free of a woman's judgment or scorn. Neji oftentimes just used it as an excuse to get free beer and some mixed nuts.

"Hey bartender, this guy needs another draft!" Kiba yelled over the dull roar of music and the other customer's conversations, pointing his thumb in Shikamaru's direction.

Neji's eyes narrowed in annoyance. He wanted to direct his glare at Kiba but saw that Shikamaru's oscillating head was in the way. Grabbing a handful of spiky hair, he pushed Shikamaru's head onto the wet countertop so he could have an unobstructed view of Kiba. "Encourage this moronic behavior any more and you'll regret it," Neji muttered ominously and with a dark glare before releasing his hold on Shikamaru's head.

Kiba just smirked and continued ordering another round of beer for the four of them.

"Oh chill out, Neji," he said dismissively. "First of all, these drinks are on me—literally." He grinned at his pun as he looked down at his wet shirt. "And second, Shikamaru personally asked me to get him wasted . . . 'To help with the coping process' as he put it." His grin widened as he looked over at Shikamaru, whose pressed down head was lazily rolling back and forth on the table. Kiba patted him on the back. "Isn't that right, buddy?" His voice had an artificial sweetness to it, as if talking to a child.

Shikamaru, who apparently had passed out before, awoke with a jolt. Some of the spilled alcohol on the counter was sucked up his nose in a snort. "Huh . . . what?" he sputtered, straightening once more. "Hey . . . " He wiped at the side of his face. "Was it raining?"

"No, but you peed yourself," Kiba chimed, giving another boisterous laugh.

Shikamaru peered down at his beer-drenched lap, a confused look plastered all over his face. "But then . . ." He looked from Kiba and Shino, to Neji, and back. "How'd it get on my face?"

This innocent question made Kiba erupt into yet another fit of laughter. Shino and Neji both shook their heads in disapproval. Kiba said that he was doing this for Shikamaru's benefit, but his obvious amusement made it hard to believe this was truly an act of selflessness.

"And—it's funny as hell!" Kiba snickered in between his gasps for air during his laughing fit.

Neji again forced another sigh. "Being drunk won't solve his problems. It just turns him into a blubbering, irrational fool," he contemned.

"I'm being perfectly rational," Shikamaru piped in. He made a quick grab for the nearest mug with a goofy smile on his face after the bartender came back with their next rounds. He started chugging faster than Thomas the Tank Engine and probably would have continued until the new mug was empty had Neji not gotten exasperated again and pried it out of his hands. Shikamaru simply shrugged, grabbed the beer resting in front of Neji's seated form, and drank from that instead.

"That was mine," Neji replied, bonking Shikamaru on the head with the cup in his hands. He wanted to hit Shikamaru harder but, unlike the drunkard sitting next to him, he did not want to risk making a bigger mess than was already splattered around their area.

"Oh yeah? Well . . ." Shikamaru paused to hiccup. "You snooze, you lose booze." He chortled at his own joke before hiccuping again.

Neji set down Shikamaru's mug out of the other man's reach. "Weren't you the one going on and on about how Temari was a well in the midst of Suna's deserts? It was just a couple of days ago that you wouldn't shut up about her smelling like chamomile and cookies . . ."

"Cookies?" Shino asked, raising an eyebrow and looking to Kiba for clarification.

"Not all the time. She baked them for him once or something," the other man explained as an aside. Shino responded with a nod of understanding and another sip of his drink.

"Nayyy," Shikamaru slurred, sounding like a cross between a stallion and a pirate. "I was drunk when I said that, too." He gave a bitter laugh. "Nay. She's barren. As barren as a desert." He gesticulated with his mug swinging in his hand as he spoke, which made Neji's, eyebrow twitch every time the liquid inside sloshed dangerously close to the rim. "And it's as I said. She smells like disgusting vinegar and cyanide."

"Cyanide generally does not have a noticeable odor," Neji interjected. "And if it does, it smells like almonds, which, personally, I think smell fine." He could no longer stand watching Shikamaru wave his cup around and grabbed it from his hands, placing it next to the other mug to his right.

Shikamaru straightened up in his chair and his expression partially sobered as he turned toward his friend. "You've never been in love, have you?" His eyes, which before had been hazy and glazed over, were sharp and focused on Neji.

Neji's eyes, in turn, widened slightly in response.

"Me? No. That has never—and will never—happen," he said with a shrug, not understanding what his personal life had to do with Shikamaru's girlfriend problems.

Shikamaru guffawed. "Hah! I used to think that, too. You'll see . . . women have their venom that they'll use . . . even on someone like you." And with that last bit of consciousness over with, Shikamaru summarily keeled over and landed with a thud on the ground.

"Last person to say 'Not it' carries him home. Not it!" Kiba yelled, jumping out of his barstool and heading toward the exit before anyone else had time to react.

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**A/N**—Hmm . . . Neji's never been in love? We'll see about that ;D


	2. II Hinata

**Intoxication**

**Disclaimer**—I don't own Naruto.

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Neji gave a relieved sigh as soon as he sighted the Hyuuga compound gates. The clan residence was hardly what he would consider a warm, inviting home—it was, in fact, quite the opposite—but after such a long and tiring day all he wanted to do was lie down and get some shut eye. It was almost one o'clock, a time when the night started to bleed into early morning. Nearly an hour had passed since he left the bar. One of the "Testosterone Fest" customs was for sober members to make sure those who imbibed returned home safely. This so-called 'cherished tradition'—thought up, and usually taken sole advantage of, by Kiba himself—usually meant that either Shino or Neji got bridled with the burden of carrying the most wasted friend home. Unfortunately, tonight was Neji's turn, only this time he was saddled with taking care of Shikamaru. He was just thankful that Shikamaru hadn't thrown up on him like the usual piss drunk Kiba was wont to do on occasion.

Neji opened the front door of the Hyuuga estate, trying all the while to make as little noise as possible. Before venturing in further, he quietly slipped off his shoes and set them aside. He looked up sharply when he heard the nearby sound of silverware clattering against some kind of ceramic dish or bowl. From the main entrance's foyer Neji could see the kitchen island where Hinata sat by herself, a small slice of cheesecake resting on the counter in front of her. The dirty fork that she must have been using to eat was perched haphazardly against the plate.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why're you still up?" he questioned in a voice that was a cross between a hiss and a whisper. One o'clock in the morning was an odd time to be eating dessert.

"Oh!" Hinata exclaimed. She expediently covered her gasp with her hand when she saw him put his finger to his mouth, telling her to quiet down. "Oh," she said much more quietly. "I-I'm sorry. I was j-just—umm . . . hungry. I wanted a—m-midnight snack."

He stayed in the foyer and continued to scrutinize her in silence.

"I'm—ah . . . done now." With a nervous rapidity, she pushed the fork and dish away from her. The sliding sounds seemed glaringly loud compared to the otherwise stillness of the night.

Neji's serious face softened the tiniest bit as one corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. "So . . . you're done with you're midnight snack?" he asked. He slowly began stalking toward her seated form.

Hinata nodded up and down sharply with a nervous rapidity.

"Hnn." His smirk continued stretching. He glanced at the wall clock next to the pantry. "I hope that means you're ready for your one o'clock snack."

Hinata again gasped but before she could say anything else Neji had pushed back her chair, grabbed her by the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder.

"N-Neji! Where are you taking me?" she questioned in a loud, frantic whisper. Her upper body was completely flipped over and blood was starting to rush to her head.

"To your bed, of course. Now be quiet."

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When Hinata woke up a few hours later, she was in an empty bed.

Neji did that sometimes. To protect her . . . Or so he said. The coming of dawn signaled the end of their time together each morning. That was part of their agreement, the one they had made when their "relationship" first started. Above all else, both had emphatically agreed from the onset that what they had together must be kept a secret. At first, the possibility that someone would find out had been Hinata's biggest worry. Just imagining the reactions of her teammates or her sensei if she told them or if they somehow found out on their own used to frazzle her nerves to no end.

But now . . . these concerns seemed to Hinata more like distant memories, unrelated to how she felt in the present. When she reflected on her old worries—thoughts of what others would think or how it would look—the only thing that made her embarrassed was her previous conceit. How could she be so vain? Caring more about her image than her true feelings for Neji . . . She had never really told him that her sentiments had changed; that now, her main concern over their relationship was for his safety, and how it would be jeopardized if someone found out about them. She would never forgive herself if she became the cause of halting Neji's progress through the Hyuuga clan. Neji had made great gains as a ninja—made all the more significant because he was a member of the branch family—and had gone so far as to earn respect from Hiashi himself. His great skills even allowed them to spend more time together ever since he was granted the "privilege," as one of the main house members had worded it, of training the Hyuuga heiress starting a couple months ago.

She remembered the day Neji told her about the assignment. She had blushed and averred that it was no privilege to work with her, seeing as how she still struggled with some of the basic ninja techniques that many others half her age had already accomplished. Neji just shook his head and replied with a hint of a smirk that it would be more than a privilege. "I told them it was _all my pleasure_," he had assured her, staring with smoldering eyes.

Hinata figured Neji must have the same concerns for his future as did she. And since they had both been on the same page when their relationship first started, he must still think that she was okay with the way things were now.

But really, mornings like this made her feel like their relationship was incomplete . . . incredibly, undeniably, inescapably incomplete.

Hinata sighed and scooted further into the warmth of her blankets. She heard the sound of her doorknob twisting and turned her head in its direction. Neji stepped in with a still sleepy look on his face, his left palm attempting to rub the sleep out of his eye. He stopped his trek back to the bed when he saw her peering back at him.

"Huh? Oh, sorry . . . Did I wake you? I went to the kitchen to clean up the cheesecake left out from last night. I didn't want you getting in trouble because of it." He resumed his trip to the bed as he continued talking quietly. "Anyway, it's still dark outside. I checked and no one's up yet. Go back to sleep—that's what I'm doing," he said in a groggy voice. When he reached the bed, he pulled back the covers and slid in next to Hinata's supine form.

Hinata, attempting to listen to his advice but failing, tried to fall back asleep but found that her previous thoughts still swirled around her head and refused to settle down. She hesitated before turning toward Neji. His eyes were closed and although he had just climbed into bed a moment ago he looked as if her were already asleep again. Hinata timidly tugged on one of his shirt sleeves. "N-Neji . . ." she tapered off.

"What is it?" He languidly rolled on his side to face her and opened his eyes. So that he could get a better look at her, he bent one arm and rested the side of his face against his palm. The other arm rested loosely at his side.

"Wh-what if—s-someone—did find out?"

Neji looked at her curiously. "Well, it would depend on who it was . . . but I think in general the response would be an admonishment followed by a patronizing reminder that you're old enough to clean up after yourself." He paused to think. "With maybe a side comment on how cheesecake is what? Fifty percent fat?" he added in jest, coupled with a poke at her midsection.

She squirmed in response to the poke but also out of discomfort. "N-no . . . not about the cheesecake . . . a-about . . . us."

A sudden heaviness filled the air as Neji processed her words. "Us?" He quickly made to sit up with sudden, jerky movements that caused Hinata to lurch up and down on the mattress. "Does someone know?" he asked. His eyes were wide and frantic as they bored into hers, any traces of sleepiness completely gone.

"No!" She replied quickly, hoping to calm him down. She put her hands against his shoulders to relax him. "No . . . I w-was just thinking—"

She felt the muscles in his shoulders relax. "It's okay." Neji gave her a relieved smile. "No one will find out," he said while picking up a hand from his shoulders and giving it a kiss.

Hinata's face grew red and she looked away.

Neji quirked an eyebrow at her odd response but his smile remained in place. "Sorry, what were you thinking?" he asked.

"Umm . . . What if—" She bit her lip. "Wh-what if I _want_ people to . . . to know?"

The tension, which had peaked and dropped only a few seconds ago, suddenly spiked up again. For a while Neji didn't say anything, his expression appearing as though he was still processing her words. But the longer he had to think about it, the angrier he looked.

Feeling beyond foolish, Hinata didn't know what to say or do. "I-I was just th-hinking that . . . " she started, trying to find words to explain herself or diffuse the tension.

"No." He interjected, suddenly gathering his wits. "This isn't—I can't . . . it's out of the question" His face scrunched up and the veins in the corners of his eyes began to show themselves near his temples.

The sudden severity in his tone made her feel embarrassed and upset. What possessed her to even bring up such a touchy subject? At that moment, she wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow her whole. Shamefacedly, she tried to pull the covers the rest of the way up passed her head so she could curl up and just be invisible.

She could barely get them halfway up her body before Neji grabbed them from her and pulled them away from her body. "Stop fidgeting. Are you even listening to me?" He muttered a string of expletives as he balled up the blanket in his hands and threw it at the headboard. "I mean—_What the hell_?"

She opened her mouth but before she could say anything Neji had interrupted with another string of curses. In a split second he had haphazardly unfurled the blanket at her side and left the room. In the next instant, one of Hinata's old maids had barged in without knocking and was peering about her room.

"What was all that racket for?" she sneered in a choleric voice, her eyes searching for anything out of place.

Realization sunk in and Hinata slowly made to grab the blanket. "I-I'm s-sorry," she said, and with trembling hands covered herself again.

"What were you doing in here?" the spinster continued, drawing closer to the bed and looking at Hinata with a quizzical eye.

"I had . . . a n-nightmare," she muttered lamely, eyes downcast.

The older women gave an indignant huff before heading back towards the door. "How old are you? Five? Next time, keep it quiet."

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Neji paced about his room, his mind and body too on edge to go to sleep. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, interrupted now and again by the loud pounding sound of blood pulsing through his system faster than normal. He was at least cognizant of his own inability to think clearly and figured it was for the best to avoid doing something irrational. Like ripping off someone's head, which he really felt like doing.

He just . . . didn't understand. He couldn't fathom what might be going through Hinata's mind.

Not that he gave her a real chance to talk, his subconscious grumbled back at him. But regardless, he had meant what he said. Such a topic was out of the question. Non-negotiable definitively.

He couldn't be selfish. Hell, he was doing this for her! She was the Hyuuga heiress! Her father would disown her if he ever found out. And not just because Neji was from the branch family, but for a whole host of reasons. One in particular stood out as tall as a skyscraper in his mind. "You're her cousin!" it read like a billboard sign in huge, bold print.

This relationship really can't work, his mind repeated like a mantra. As was evident by their 'talk' just now, there was no way he could give her what she wanted in life. What she _deserved_. Although he was not prone to melodrama, he really didn't think he could live with himself if he was someone holding her back.

He sighed and rubbed his face again after halting his pace about his room. His thoughts were still racing around in his head, all of them heading toward a downward spiral. Pressing the heels of his palms tightly against his eyes, he tried to think of something else. Anything else. He knew what was coming and was afraid of where his thoughts, as usual, were heading.

The image sprang unwelcome into his mind even after his attempts at blocking it. Hinata with child. A son or even a cute baby girl, clutching to its mother. She would be an amazing mom; it was in her nature to be caring and sweet. And her children would undoubtedly be beautiful.

A growl of frustration welled in his throat. He launched himself at his bed and smothered himself with his pillow, all the while wishing his thoughts would go away.

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**A/N**—Meh. I really didn't like the way I wrote this chapter. Chapter 3 will be better~! Naruto's going to be added to the equation :D


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